


a truth so loud you can't ignore

by KaijuDork



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, PTSD, Pining, Shance Week 2016, Shance Week 2016: Pining/Confession, Sparring, Stargazing, friendship banter and general fuzziness, how are these people supposed to save the universe when they cant deal with feelings, how does pidge deal with these men and their romantic pining, lance doesnt think he's all that great tbh, non-binary Pidge, shiro disagrees, small amounts of angst overwhelmed by sickening amounts of fluff and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaijuDork/pseuds/KaijuDork
Summary: Lance decides to start leaving anonymous notes for Shiro to cheer him up, and can't quite stop himself from expressing his age-old crush through them. He doesn't plan on actually confessing to the other paladin, though, because there's no way it could be mutual.Besides, he never gets caught leaving them, so Shiro won't know that they're from him... right?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faultierken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faultierken/gifts).



They say you should never meet your heroes. That meeting them could somehow shatter the illusion that they were perfect, or change your opinion of them. Maybe they’d be totally different to what you were expecting and it would crush your heart, so it was better to live life in ignorant bliss without ever encountering them. Lance thought that in the case of Takashi Shirogane, that was probably bullshit, because he was the coolest guy to ever walk the planet.

 

It wasn’t hero worship. Not _really_. Lance just… really appreciated that Shiro existed.

 

And aspired to be just like him.

 

And considered him an idol.

 

And thought that he was the coolest guy ever.

 

And was totally jealous of his general everything.

 

And maybe had a slight crush on him?

 

Okay, a major crush on him. But come on, the dude was built like a brick shithouse and his voice was so deep and smooth and his eyes were so soft and kind and _wow,_ did he know how to use eyeliner or _what?_ And on top of all that, of _course_ he was apparently the biggest sweetheart on the planet. Friendly to a fault, helpful with colleagues and students, encouraging and supportive, polite, loving. Lance was pretty sure he had saved an abandoned puppy at some point? He had definitely heard that. Honestly, this guy was perfection wrapped in a blanket of _Daaaaaamn,_ and everyone knew it.

 

Just to complete the Perfect Man Aesthetic, he was also a smooth talker. Apparently, the cooks in the mess hall cooed and swooned and gave him extra food. As a pilot, he had his colleagues wrapped around his finger whether he intended to or not. When he had been a student, the teachers had _adored_ him. Students then and now flirted with him all the time, and when he flirted back, even if it was just playful, he could leave a trail of blushing, flustered people in his wake. He was Romeo, and everyone else was Juliet. Except with less creepy age gaps and unfortunate misunderstandings and death.

 

And it totally wasn't weird that Lance had a garrison poster in his room just because Shiro was on it. _Lots_ of people had that poster. Lance grabbed his jacket and gave the poster a small salute on his way out.

 

There was no way he was going to be late to watch the launch of the Kerberos mission.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Lance skipped up the front steps to his house two at a time, resting his board against the wall before he entered the house. The smell of dinner wafted out through open windows, accompanied by the faint sound of the television. He pushed open the door with a grin.

 

“Hey, what’s for dinner? Smells _amaz-_ ” Lance stopped. His parents were standing silent in front of the television, his father still wearing his sauce-stained apron and his mother cradling his youngest brother. “What’s happened?”

 

“Lance…” his mother started as he came up beside them, his wetsuit dripping on the carpet, but apparently she didn’t care about that for once. The television was showing footage of the Kerberos launch, but this wasn’t an update on the mission or confirmation of the team successfully landing on the distant moon. The caption made Lance’s blood run cold.

 

**_KERBEROS MISSION DISAPPEARS: PILOT ERROR_ **

 

_“The Galaxy Garrison mission to the distant moon of Kerberos is missing, and all crew members are believed to be dead. The Galaxy Garrison has said that the crash was presumably caused by pilot error-”_

 

“No,” Lance snapped as though he could interrupt the newsreader, tears in his eyes. _No no no no no._ “Not Shiro.”

 

“C’mere, pal,” his father said softly, pulling Lance against him in a tight hug.

 

“There’s no way he crashed. _No way!_ ” Lance wriggled out of his father’s grip to point accusingly at the television. “They can’t blame him for this! I- I don’t believe it! They’re covering something up!”

 

“People make mistakes. Some mistakes just… have a big cost. I know how much you loved this guy, Lance. I’m so sorry,” he said. Lance spun on his heel and ran out of the house, grabbing his board on the way and ignoring the shouts as his parents tried to call him back. He headed straight for the water when he reached the beach, paddling far from shore. The summer sun was still in the sky, shimmering on the clear water where fish darted out of his way as he came to a stop, sitting back on his board. The water rocked him gently, the motion normally so soothing, but the headline wouldn’t stop running through his head.

 

_The Kerberos team was gone._

 

The sky was darkening when Lance heard someone coming towards him - the sky was already dusted with stars, a sliver of the moon reflecting on the ocean’s surface. Lance knew that it was Hunk who had pulled up alongside him. No one else would be out here at this time of night.

 

“Hey, man,” Hunk said softly, taking a hold of his hand. “Jeez, you feel like a block of ice. You’re gonna get hypothermia out here. C’mon.” Lance followed Hunk silently back to shore, only becoming aware of how cold he was when he started to move. Hunk had left towels on the now empty beach and stooped to retrieve them, wrapping one around Lance’s shoulders and taking his board as he led him off the sand.

 

“I talked to your mom, told her you were gonna stay at my place tonight,” Hunk said, adjusting his grip on the boards as they walked under the dim streetlamps. “I figured you wouldn’t want to deal with… well, anything right now.”

 

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance sighed. Lance headed straight to Hunk’s room as his friend put together his famously good hot chocolate and scavenged some cookies his dad hadn’t managed to eat yet, bringing it all in on a tray. They curled up on Hunk’s bed and put on a movie, but Lance couldn’t focus on it.

 

_Pilot Error._

 

“He’s not dead, Hunk. He can’t be,” he said quietly. Hunk wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer, muttering comfortingly as Lance cried into his shoulder.

 

_He can’t be._

 

 

~*~

 

 

When Pidge had hacked into the security feeds in the desert, Lance hadn’t believed his eyes. The relief of seeing Shiro alive had been quickly pushed to the side amidst the drama of rescuing him, and now Lance found himself fighting alongside him.

 

In space.

 

In giant alien robot lions that combined to make a giant robot man.

 

Life had gotten real weird, real quick for all of them upon Shiro’s return, but it was apparent that his own life had been flipped upside-down quite some time ago. He was different now.

 

Visibly, the most obvious changes were the arm, the hair, and the scar. Shiro’s right arm had been replaced with a weaponized robotic prosthetic at some point during his imprisonment, where he had been forced to fight for his life in an arena for the amusement of the spectators. Whether the arm had originally been lost in a fight or simply replaced on the whim of his captors, Shiro never said. He didn’t say much about his ordeal at all, and often brushed off any questions with an ‘I don’t remember yet’, although the paladins could usually tell when that was a lie. His eyes would go distant, or his fists would clench slightly, or his leg might jump nervously.

 

The shock of pure white hair apparently remained a mystery to him, however. He was definitely telling the truth when he said he had no idea when that had happened or what had caused it, nor the general greying of the rest of his hair. He didn’t seem to like it much, but Lance thought it made him look kinda dignified, somehow. The scar that cut across the bridge of Shiro’s nose was something the older man definitely remembered though; when asked about it by an inquisitive alien child on a planet they had freed from Galra control, Shiro had frozen, a pained look on his face. He had come back to himself within a few moments and quietly excused himself from the party, returning to the Castle of Lions.

 

It wasn’t Shiro’s only scar, Lance knew - hell, it _couldn’t_ be, there was no way he spent a year in a gladiator arena without getting hurt - but it was the only one any of them had seen in its entirety. Shiro always wore his longsleeved suit or the undersuit of his armour around them. Lance had caught glimpses of scar tissue on the few occasions that Shiro’s undersuit had been torn in a fight, and in some harsh lighting you could see ridges and bumps highlighted on the skintight outfit.

 

When it had eventually occurred to Lance that Shiro might have been self conscious about his scars, he had almost dismissed the idea there and then. _Shiro? Self conscious?_ The guy was a stud and he knew it. Why would he be self conscious about battle scars? Besides, scars were _hot_. (Oh, and Lance absolutely still had a crush. Turned out Shiro was just as awesome in person as the rumours had suggested. It was totally unfair.) But after the initial thought, he couldn’t help but notice that Shiro never spent long looking in reflective surfaces, and in the few instances where he did, Lance could see a masked look of disgust on his face.

 

It became clear pretty quick that the visible effects of Shiro’s time with the Galra weren’t the only ones, though. He never spoke openly about it, but they had all figured out by now that in the moments where Shiro froze, eyes wide and distant, and his breathing turned sharp, he wasn’t seeing what they were seeing. Words and sights triggered these episodes to varying degrees; sometimes he would space out for a second or so, which was no big deal if they were lounging around the Castle, but it had occurred a few times on a scale that left Shiro lost in himself and paralyzed for up to several minutes sometimes, which was the opposite of ideal in battle. But still, he never spoke of them, or what he was seeing. After particularly bad episodes, Shiro remained distant for hours, even _days_ once or twice, but he remained supportive and calm and focused through it all, which just made Lance respect him _more,_ if that was even possible.

 

Still, Lance felt his heartstrings tug painfully whenever Shiro would enter the kitchen for breakfast with a haunted look from whatever nightmares plagued him, or when he would see Shiro’s smile fade when he thought no one was looking. It wasn’t right. Bad shit always seemed to happen to good people, and whatever had happened to Shiro wasn’t just bad shit, it was… well, Mega Bad Shit. With a trademark symbol for good measure.

 

When Lance got up in the early hours of the morning to go to the bathroom and bumped into Shiro on the way, looking even more rough and exhausted than usual (or maybe this _was_ usual, and he had always managed to hide it by the time everyone else got up?), he decided he was going to do something about it.

 

“What do I do about it?” he asked Hunk as he lay on Hunk’s bed, lazily bouncing a ball off the wall. Hunk looked up from the… thingy he was tinkering with. It was a part of some experiment he was planning on running with Pidge. At the moment, though, it was just the two of them.

 

“Why do you have to do anything about it? Listen, man, I want to help Shiro just as much as you do, but I don’t think we should push him into talking about it?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wish I could cheer him up a bit. I hate seeing him so… not him. It’s weird.”

 

“You didn’t even _know_ him before all this Voltron stuff,” Hunk pointed out.

 

“So? I knew _of_ him, I know what he _was_ like, and I also know that Keith thinks he’s not himself either. And _Keith_ knew him before all of this,” he said, gesturing at everything around them. “So in this one case, Keith actually knows what he’s talking about.”

 

“Shiro’s been through a lot. That kinda stuff is gonna leave a mark.”

 

“Well I wanna make the mark a little bit less obvious for him. He’s just… miserable. I can’t fix it, but I wanna make him smile a bit more or something, y’know?” Hunk dropped the machine in his hands, making Lance jump. “What?” Lance asked defensively as his friend stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

 

“You still have a crush on him!”

 

Lance scoffed, but he felt his face heating up. “No. No I don’t. I just want to cheer my friend up.”

 

“A crush on who?” Pidge asked from the doorway. They gently set a box of metal and wires on the floor as the door slid shut behind them.

 

“No one!”

 

“Shiro?”

 

“No!”

 

“Oh my _God, you have a crush on Shiro?”_

 

“I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON SH-” Lance stopped, before repeating in a harsh, quiet tone, “ _I don’t have a crush on Shiro!”_ Pidge pushed their glasses up the bridge of their nose as they considered him for a moment, eyes narrowed. Then, they made a noncommittal ‘eh’ and shrugged.

 

“I mean, if you did, it would be understandable. He’s aesthetically pleasing, has a sparkling personality, could probably do one-handed pushups with his human hand with all of us piled on his back and oh my god you’re going bright red you _so_ have a crush!” They said. Lance pulled his hood down over his face.

 

“Please kill me,” he whined. He felt a weight shift the mattress as Pidge sat on the bed.

 

“How long?” they asked, and he could hear the amusement in their voice. Much to his utter disgust, Hunk betrayed him.

 

“Oh, man, it must be a few years now? Shiro was his _hero._ ” the yellow paladin responded. Pidge giggled gleefully.

 

“Did you have the garrison poster with him on it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Yeah you did,” Hunk said. Lance lifted a corner of the hood to glare out at his friend with one eye. Hunk looked like he was _enjoying_ this.

 

“Traitor.”

 

“Sorry.” No he wasn’t.

 

“Why were you even talking about this?” Pidge asked, still grinning. Lance sighed, flipping onto his stomach to bury his face in Hunk’s pillow.

 

“I was trying to think of a way to cheer him up a bit, and Hunk decided to bring up a source of great pain and suffering that I frequently try to avoid thinking about, because that’s what friends are for, apparently,” he grumbled into the pillow. Pidge made a sympathetic noise.

 

“That’s rough, buddy. Makes me glad that the only things I’m interested in are robots and being right.”

 

“Thanks. I think.”

 

“No problemo. I’ll leave you to your bisexual suffering.” They turned their attention to Hunk. “Do you have the converter working yet?”

 

Hunk reached behind himself to grab a small device that he had been working on earlier and tossed it to them. “Working as best as I could get it to. Did you bring the notes?”

 

_Notes._

 

Lance jumped to his feet, making Pidge yelp as he knocked a bundle of pages from their hands.

 

“DUDE!” They squawked, attempting to gather the pages that were now scattered across the floor.

 

“I know how I’m gonna cheer him up!” Lance exclaimed proudly. “Can I borrow some of that paper?”

 

“I don’t have any blank pages. Why?” Pidge asked, shuffling them back into some sort of order. Hunk wordlessly dug a small notebook out of his pocket and handed it to Lance with a pencil that had been propped behind his ear. He stared at the page for a moment, chewing the end of the pencil. He had no idea what to write. He sighed.

 

“I dunno, it- nah, it was a stupid idea. I was gonna write him a note. Like, a cheer up note? And leave it on his door or something? As a nice surprise. It was lame. Never mind.”  


“That’s--” Pidge paused, their brow furrowing. “Actually a really sweet idea. Sweet as in, cute-sweet, not cool-awesome-sweet. You should do it.” Hunk nodded in agreement, a slight smile on his face.

 

“Yeah, I think he’d appreciate it. I know I would.”

 

“Really?” Lance asked, surprised. Were they joking? Didn’t _look_ like they were joking. They both nodded. Lance scratched the back of his head. “Hmm. I’ll think about it a bit more I guess.”

 

“I’m gonna need that pencil back!” Hunk called as Lance wandered aimlessly from the room, lost in thought.

 

“Sure,” he said absently, closing the door. Hunk would probably never see the pencil again.

 

 

~*~

 

 

The first note Lance left on Shiro’s door was a simple:

 

**_You’re pretty great :)_ **

 

It took an embarrassing amount of time for him to think up, if he was being honest. It took even longer to convince himself to stick it to the door the next morning, when everyone else had went ahead to the training deck. He stuck it at Shiro’s eye level, just to make sure he would see it. Shiro had looked tired again that morning, after another night of restless sleep no doubt. Lance hoped it would make him feel a little better.

 

Later, when they were walking past the rooms on their way to the kitchen, Lance watched out of the corner of his eye as Shiro stopped at his door. He felt butterflies in his stomach as Shiro pulled the note off and read it with a small smile, and Lance looked away before Shiro noticed he was watching. Operation Make Shiro Smile had been accomplished.

 

He left the second note the next morning.

 

**_You have a beautiful smile!!_ **

 

So it was cheesy, yeah. Who cared? Lance smiled to himself as he stuck the note to the wall opposite Shiro’s door on his way to training again. He had left early this time, wanting to leave the note for Shiro to find on his way. Keith was already on the deck when Lance arrived.

 

“You feeling okay?” the red paladin asked, eyebrow raised. “You’re never early.”

 

“I arrive late, I’m criticized. I arrive early, I’m criticized. There’s no pleasing you.”

 

“Nothing I said was critical, Lance.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Hunk and Pidge arrived together, but neither of them looked surprised to see Lance there already. Pidge grinned impishly at him and mouthed ‘beautiful smile’, and Lance felt his ears burn. It wasn’t _that bad_ , was it? But when Shiro arrived a few minutes later, he was smiling to himself as he slipped a piece of paper into his armour. Pidge give Lance a discreet thumbs up between their stretches.

 

“G’morning, Shiro!” Lance said.

 

“Hey, Lance. Nice to see you here on time for once,” Shiro grinned, ruffling his hair. He hoped his blush wasn’t too obvious, but started doing stretches that would hide his face from view for a while, just in case.

 

After seeing how those two simple notes seemed to cheer Shiro up, leaving more became part of Lance’s daily routine. Once a day, he would stick one to his door or on the opposite wall, depending on the time. He wanted to make sure the black paladin would see it either going into or coming out of his room. The contents of the notes would vary; sometimes they were little doodles with positive messages, some were ‘terrible’ puns (excuse you, Pidge, those puns were fantastic), and others were just compliments. He tried to keep it platonic, he really did, but apparently he had failed at that already with ‘beautiful smile’.

 

**_Keep your head up!_ **

 

**_You’re out of this world! [surrounded with doodles of stars and planets]_ **

 

**_You’re a great leader_ **

 

**_I’ve always got your back!_ **

 

**_You’re the coolest guy in the universe! [with a doodle of the black lion giving a thumb’s up]_ **

 

**_You make me want to be a better person_ **

 

**_I know you don't like them, but I think scars look badass_ **

 

**_You're the brightest star out here_ **

 

**_You’re my hero_ **

 

He left a note every day for the next three weeks. He wasn’t expecting it to suddenly make everything better. He knew that wasn’t how this stuff worked. Shiro needed time to adjust, time to heal, time to recover, but Lance hoped that he was making every day just a little bit more bearable for him. Even if he just made Shiro smile for a few seconds, that was all he wanted to do. He didn’t expect anything to come of it.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Lance stretched as he woke, his toes touching the wall of the alcove that the bed was set into. He had definitely needed that lie-in after the battle yesterday. He looked over at the clock; 10.20. Plenty of time to get ready for training since Shiro had given them the morning off. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up with a yawn, stretching again as he shoved his feet into his slippers and headed to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, Shiro was already there, drinking from a mug of the closest thing to coffee they had managed to find in space so far. He was flicking through the pages of a small book that Lance had never seen before, smiling to himself.

 

“Mornin’,” Lance said cheerily. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to hang out with Shiro without the others around.

 

“Hey, Lance. You’re up earlier than I thought you’d be,” he noted, not without a hint of approval. He closed the little book and slipped it into his pocket.  

 

“Well rested and ready for duty, sir,” he smirked, making a small salute as he poured himself a mug of the same coffee-stuff. He could never remember the name of it. It was something unpronounceable and _weird_ , no doubt.

 

“Good to hear it,” Shiro smiled. As usual, Lance’s heart melted a little bit.

 

“Did you get any sleep?”

 

“Not much.”

 

“Damn. Sorry,” Lance pulled a face as he sat down opposite Shiro with his breakfast. “That sucks.”

 

“I’m used to it by now, I guess,” he sighed, finishing his drink and getting to his feet. Lance couldn’t fight off the feeling of disappointment; he had been looking forward to talking to Shiro alone. “I’ll see you at training, buddy.” The older paladin smiled at him over his shoulder as he left the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, see ya,” Lance responded, propping his head up on his fist with a sigh. Damn it. The universe just didn’t want to encourage his little crush this morning, did it? It was probably for the best - hell, Shiro was never going to feel the same way, Lance _really_ had to get over this - but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. He wallowed in his own misery for another ten minutes before returning to his room to get dressed. He was so caught up in feeling sorry for himself, he almost tripped over a small bundle in front of his door.

 

“What the-” he stooped to pick up a… bouquet of flowers? What the shit? He frowned as he slid the door shut behind him and sat on the edge of his bed, studying the flowers. Some of them looked pretty similar to flowers he had seen on Earth, but they were all definitely alien. From the planet they were on, probably, and they smelled _fantastic,_ but who the hell would’ve left flowers at his door? He pulled a little piece of paper out of the middle of the bouquet and set the flowers to the side as he unfolded it.

 

**_You never know how much a little action can brighten someone else’s day :) - Shiro  ♥_ **

 

Lance squeaked and dropped the note like it had burned him.

 

Shiro knew about the notes.

 

Shiro had left him flowers.

 

_Shiro had signed the note with a heart._

 

Lance felt a bubble of panic in his chest. Was this a friend thing? Friends didn’t give each other bouquets of flowers and sign notes with hearts, did they? Maybe Shiro did. It was probably a Shiro thing. It _had_ to be, because Shiro _obviously_ wouldn’t like him back. Not in that way. He was _Shiro_ , he could have anyone in the universe.

 

So it was a friend thing.

 

Right.

 

Just a friend thing.

 

But if Shiro knew the notes were from him and hadn’t picked up on Lance’s super-mega-ultra crush then damn, he wasn’t too bright on the romance front of things, was he? But no, Lance shook his head as he thought to himself, there was _no way_ it was anything other than platonic.

 

So what the hell did he do now? What did he say to Shiro at training? Thanks for the freakin’ flowers, man, haha, no homo? He flopped backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he could just saying nothing about it? That would be a good idea. Yeah. He’d do that. With a small whine, he reached for his training gear and started to get dressed, his eyes constantly flicking back towards the bouquet still lying on his bed. He lifted the note from where it had fallen to the ground, holding it gently as though it was a fragile autumn leaf that could crumble away at the slightest touch. With a sigh, he set it on the table beside his bed and left the room, glancing over his shoulder one last time at the flowers.

 

Totally just a friend thing.

 

 

~*~

 

 

The whole team was already gathered on the training deck when Lance arrived. Lance mentally prayed to every possible deity that he knew of; he didn’t want to be forced into an awkward conversation with Shiro about the flowers.

 

“Hey Lance!” Hunk called to him from the centre of the room, bringing his arrival to the attention of the others. He couldn’t help but notice Shiro’s grin, even more heartstopping than usual as he approached, but avoided any direct conversation with the other man as Hunk began telling him about some wicked-cool (or so he was told) idea for an upgrade to the castle that he had thought of in his sleep.

 

“Okay team, we’re doing some close-quarters combat practice today,” Shiro explained a few minutes later after everyone had stretched and exhausted the conversation. “You all know how to handle yourself - the battle yesterday proved that - but we gotta step up the game. We’ll do some demonstrations, go over the basics, and talk about the Galra fighting style, ‘cuz it’s not like anything we have back on Earth. Then we’re gonna take turns fighting.”

 

“Fighting you..?” Hunk said uncertainly. They had all seen Shiro fight; he was nigh on unstoppable. Shiro smiled sadly.

 

“I’m the only one here who fights like a Galran. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt anyone. _This_ thing doesn’t activate unless I tell it to,” he added, waving his prosthetic slightly. Hunk looked mortified.

 

“That’s not what I meant! I’m not scared you’re gonna hurt us, I’m just… self conscious. I’m not so good at the close-quarters stuff.”

 

“That’s why we’re practicing,” he responded. Keith, of course, didn’t look worried at all.

 

“Alright, this’ll be fun,” the red paladin grinned.

 

“I’m glad you’re enthusiastic - you’re my demonstration partner. You’re the most experienced hand-to-hand fighter here.” Shiro said, motioning for him to approach. Lance had often watched Shiro and Keith sparring in their downtime - it seemed to be a Thing with them, for some reason. Time to relax? Sure, let’s go fight until we’re sweaty and breathless (Not that Lance was complaining about _that_ particular aspect of it.)

 

Shiro started off showing them basic techniques like stance, positioning and defence, with various blocks, dodges, and counter-attacks before moving into a more detailed description of the Galra technique. It was quick and dirty and brutal; they didn’t let up and they didn’t care for good sportsmanship or honour. They attacked and attacked and attacked until their opponent made a mistake, using any possible opening to try to land a blow. You either had to defend until they exhausted themselves, or find an opening and make a strike of your own. The latter was preferable, apparently, because the purple assholes had great stamina and were more likely to wear you out first. After demonstrating with Keith and doing a few rounds, it was Pidge’s turn to fight Shiro, and then Hunk’s. As they fought, Shiro told them about their strengths and weaknesses and how to play to both.

 

“Use your size and speed to your advantage. You might not be able to overpower them, but you can outmanoeuvre them and outsmart them, just like you did when they took over the castle. Analyse the fight, analyse your surroundings.”

 

“Keep light on your toes, keep your weight balanced. Watch the fight closely. You can take more hits than Pidge, and you can hit ‘em back twice as hard. Don’t be afraid to stand your ground, it can produce some good opportunities to strike if you learn when to stay and when to move.”

 

When Lance’s turn came up, he found himself getting nervous. He didn’t really _have_ strengths or weaknesses like Pidge and Hunk. And on top of that, how was he supposed to focus on fighting when his opponent was _drop dead gorgeous and had left him flowers?_ Despite leaving the others exhausted and sweating buckets, Shiro was still raring to go with only a slight sheen of sweat on his face. It was a miracle that he hadn’t taken off his jacket by now. _He’s self-conscious about the scars_ , Lance reminded himself as he got into position. Shiro came in almost immediately with a low swing that Lance just managed to avoid, leaping to the side and ducking under the kick that followed.

 

“Focus,” Shiro instructed as his fist connected with his chest, just enough to push some of the air from his lungs. He took a few steps back, giving Lance some space as he recovered. “The Galra don’t let up.”

 

“Right, right. Focus. How hard can focusing be?” he muttered, blocking a blow aimed at his chest and ducking beneath another at his head as he pushed Shiro’s arm to the side. He swung a punch at Shiro’s chest, but Shiro caught his fist in his hand and twisted Lance’s arm up behind his back.

 

“Come on!” Shiro said, pushing him away. Lance hissed and rubbed his shoulder as he stumbled forward, spinning on his heels just in time to see Shiro diving at him. He jumped to the side and distanced himself from Shiro as the other man spun to face him again. “What are your strengths, Lance? What are you good at?”

 

Lance raised his arms and blocked another flurry of punches and kicks as he thought. He drew up a blank. “I don’t know. I don’t have any!”

 

“Bullshit,” Shiro huffed as he kicked Lance’s leg out from beneath him, sending him tumbling to the floor. He held out a hand to help Lance to his feet. “You telling me that you grew up with all those siblings and never got in a fight?”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” he growled, getting annoyed now.

 

“Think about it! What’s it like to fight with kids, huh?” Shiro encouraged, swiping at Lance’s head again. He jumped out of the way and stepped just beyond Shiro’s kicking distance to avoid the follow up. “It’s messy and rough and unfair, and you’ve picked that up. I’ve watched you fight - you’re scrappy.”

 

“I am?” he frowned.

 

“‘Course you are! And against the Galra, that’s a good thing. You just need to hone it to the next level. You gotta time it right,” he instructed. “And your timing is great, Lance. No one handles a gun like you do on moving targets without good timing. You’ve got foresight. So focus. Picture where my moves are going to put me and use that knowledge to place your attacks. Don’t rush it. Only take the shot when you have it, but when you do, take it quick and brutal.”

 

Lance took a deep breath and nodded, putting all of his focus into the fight. Even when he was going easy on them, Shiro was one hell of a fighter. He threw punch after punch, aiming the occasional kick here and there to take Lance by surprise, feinting expertly and moving out of the way of Lance’s own swings like he had a sixth sense for it and throwing him to the ground with ease. He also seemed to avoid using his cyborg arm, despite it being his dominant hand. Lance pushed his irritation to the side as he missed yet again, just managing to sidestep Shiro’s counter move. Getting annoyed would mess with his head. He had to stay sharp. Shiro’s arm pulled back to swing again, but something about his body language told Lance that it was another feint, so Lance moved the opposite way. He grabbed Shiro’s other wrist as it came up to catch him in the gut and pulled him off balance, and he kicked the back of Shiro’s leg and sent him crashing to the floor.

 

He whooped and punched the air as Shiro rolled over onto his back, looking up at him proudly, and Lance was glad his cheeks were already flushed from the fight. _Holy shit he’s beautiful._ And then Shiro’s hand shot out and pulled his ankle and he landed on the floor with an _Oof --_ he must have looked absolutely _scandalised_ , because Shiro burst into a fit of laughter. It was a real, genuine laugh, the likes of which Lance had never heard from the other man, and it was infectious. Soon he was laughing too, and the others couldn’t hold off on sniggers of their own.

 

“Okay, okay, good job today guys,” Shiro huffed breathlessly between his final few giggles. “Go shower and do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”

 

Lance could have quite happily stayed on the floor watching Shiro laugh for hours. He looked absolutely adorable when he laughed; his whole face lit up, his nose scrunched up slightly, his eyes crinkled deeply at the corners. But nothing ever lasted as long as he wanted it too, and moments later Hunk was helping him to his feet as Keith pulled Shiro up. Shiro thumped Lance’s shoulder affectionately.

 

“Told you you could do it,” he grinned, running his fingers through his forelock. He paused for a moment. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up, but… how ‘bout you meet me up on the central deck tonight?”

 

Lance’s heart skipped half a dozen beats and ran away. “Why?”

 

“Well, the stars here are beautiful, and… I thought it’d be nice if we could spend some time together,” Shiro replied with a warm smile. It faded suddenly and he looked away, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as Lance remained in stunned silence. “Only if you want to. You don’t have to. Sorry, I thought-”

 

“Sure!” Lance blurted out. Shiro perked up again.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, I’d love to,” he said shyly, feeling his face burning. Shiro nodded, his lips spreading into a wide grin once more.

 

“Awesome. How does ten sound?”

 

“Sounds perfect,” Lance replied weakly as they walked to the doors. The other paladins were talking quietly, but they were quite obviously paying more attention to his conversation with Shiro than anything they were saying to each other.

 

“Alright, it’s a date! See you later,” Shiro beamed, waving a casual salute as he left the room. As the doors slid shut, the other three paladins stopped talking immediately. Lance opened and closed his mouth wordlessly a few times, not even sure what he wanted to say. He opted instead for a small whine and a pleading, hopeless look.

 

“Did Shiro just-?” Pidge started, a sly smirk on their face. Lance nodded.

 

“I’ve. Got a date with Shiro,” he confirmed quietly. Saying it out loud let it sink in just a little bit more, and his eyes widened as he shouted, “OH MY GOD I’VE GOT A _DATE WITH SHIRO_?”

 

“ _Nice_!” Hunk whooped. To Lance’s surprise, even Keith was grinning widely. He shook his head slightly as he pushed himself off the wall with a huff of laughter.

 

“Jesus, _finally,_ ” he said, pulling sweat-soaked strands of hair back from his face. “I thought he’d never ask you out.”

 

“ _You knew?_ How long have you known about this? Why didn’t you tell me!?” Lance spluttered. Keith snorted as he paused by the doors, looking over his shoulder.

 

“Would you have wanted Hunk to tell Shiro you had a crush on _him_?”

 

Lance automatically opened his mouth to make some sort of excellent, witty retort, and snapped it shut again. “Good point. Hey, hold up! How long has he liked me? Does he talk about me a lot? Does he think I’m handsome and witty and charming? Keith? KEITH!”

 

 

~*~

 

 

Pidge yelped in shock as Lance barged into their room a couple of hours later.

 

“Do I look okay!?” He demanded with a hint of hysteria. He had no idea what to _wear_. Granted, he didn’t have much choice, but still. Did he go with the usual look? Jeans and a t-shirt? Jeans and a different t-shirt? Jeans and a different different t-shirt? The castle hadn’t had much of a clothing selection, to be honest. Hunk had been no help whatsoever, telling him sappy shit like ‘just be you’ and ‘wear whatever you feel comfortable in’. He had gone with, surprisingly, jeans and a t-shirt, but he was having his doubts.

 

“What are you _talking about_?” they sighed, pulling their headset off and looking at him over the rims of their glasses with disapproval. Lance waved his arms wildly.

 

“For my date!” he squawked. Realisation dawned on Pidge’s face, and their eyes softened.

 

“You look fine, Lance.”

 

“Fine as in ‘Eh. Could do better.’ fine or fine as in ‘ _Fiiiiine’_? Or ‘average’ fine? Or ‘not really fine but I don’t want to hurt Lance’s feelings’ fine?”

 

“Dude, I electrocute you with my bayard on at _least_ a weekly basis. You really think I would lie about this to avoid hurting your feelings?” they pushed their laptop off their lap and approached him, holding his upper arms tightly to his side. “You look good. You’re not going for a fancy dinner. You’re going to hang out.”

 

“But-”

 

“Calm down, I’m getting anxious just looking at you.”

 

“I can’t calm down! What if I screw up, what if- if he doesn’t _really_ like me and he’s just doing this because he feels like he has to, or- OW!” he yelped as Pidge reached up and slapped him in the face.

 

“You heard Keith, Shiro’s wanted to ask you out for a while now! Stop doubting yourself, it’s weird and it makes me uncomfortable. I like it better when you act like you’re hot shit to hide your crippling insecurities.”

 

“... Thanks. I think,” Lance muttered, rubbing his cheek. He seemed to say that a lot to the green paladin. They grinned impishly.

 

“Don’t mention it. Now get out of my room,” they instructed, forcefully spinning him on the spot and pushing his back to march him out of the room. Lance stood awkwardly in the hallway. His head felt totally scrambled.

 

“We’ve never really hung out alone. I’m worried he won’t like me when we do,” he admitted, examining a speck of dirt on the floor with interest. Pidge leaned against their doorframe and sighed.

 

“Dude, it’ll be _fine._ Just be yourself. God knows, he seems to like that for some reason.”

 

They slid their door shut, and Lance swore he could hear a quiet, exasperated ‘ _Men…’_ on the other side of the door. So, that had been just as helpful as his trip to Hunk’s room. He briefly considered knocking on Keith’s door, but that would be as useful as punching a wall. He huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets, and began making his way to the central deck. It’d be fine. He’d be fine. Chill out, man, it’ll be-

 

Shiro was already there when he arrived, leaning against the wall in the low light of the planet’s moons and absently flexing his prosthetic, in much more casual dress than Lance had ever seen him in before - dark skinny jeans and a black zip hoodie, with his usual heavy boots - and he looked _gorgeous_.

 

Lance was absolutely not fine.

 

Shiro looked up from his hand as he caught sight of Lance in his peripheral vision and smiled - nervously? Nah, there was no way _he_ would be nervous. “Hey,” he said as Lance approached, pushing himself off the wall.

 

“Um. Hi,” Lance smiled back, scuffing his toes on the floor.

 

“I know I said to meet me here, but it’s a nice night... There’s a hill on the other side of the woods that has a great view. Wanna take a walk?” Shiro asked, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. His arm whirred and buzzed in the silence.

 

“Sure, why not?” Lance shrugged, hoping he didn’t sound too non-committal. Trying to play down how excited and nervous he was without making it seem like he didn’t give a shit was _hard._ It seemed to work though. Shiro slung a small rucksack over his shoulder and led the way out of the castle. They walked in the opposite direction of the city at the bottom of the valley and into the small wooded area nearby. Lance hadn’t had the chance to appreciate it the day before, stressed as he had been trying to hide from Galra patrols. The woods smelled sweet and earthy, and something about the thick tree trunks and dense foliage just felt _safe._ Some of the flowers had a slight bioluminescent glow, flaring up as the breeze stirred them, and small night-dwelling creatures skittered into the bushes as they passed. The sky was no longer visible beneath the thick canopy overhead, but the glowing flowers cast plenty of light for them to navigate through the trees. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves and wildlife, and their own footsteps.

 

“Is everything okay? You’re quieter than usual,” Shiro asked after they had walked for several minutes. He had made a few comments about their surroundings and Lance had replied minimally in an attempt to avoid saying stupid shit. Now Shiro looked at Lance with uncertainty, the gentle glow of the plant life accentuating his slight frown.

 

“What? Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry, I was just thinking about stuff,” Lance replied lamely. Shiro took hold of Lance’s arm and pulled him to a stop, his frown deepening as he took a deep breath.

 

“Lance, I don’t want you to do this just to humour me. If you don’t want to-”

 

_Oh, shit._

 

“No! No, believe me, I- I _really_ want to be out here. With you. A lot. Like, so much. I’m just. Really nervous?” he laughed slightly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t wanna ruin this. Jeez, I’m such a jackass, I’m so sorry.”

 

Shiro let out a sigh of relief. “You’re not going to ruin anything,” he smiled as they resumed walking. Instead of letting go of his arm, Shiro slid his hand down to take Lance’s and give it a soft squeeze. Lance decided that he had absolutely died and gone to heaven at some point in the last twenty-four hours.

 

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m _pretty good_ at ruining things. Just ask my Mom. Or my Dad. Or my aunts and uncles. Or any of my siblings. Or Hunk. Although, all of them would probably give you examples of stuff I absolutely _haven’t_ ruined, and they just don’t want to admit that I improved on something. Like that time Hunk and I were making a cake for my little sister’s birthday and i used ‘too much’ chocolate icing, which is totally stupid because there’s no such thing as too much chocolate icing, and my sis _loved_ it, but to this day Hunk still insists that I- what?” he asked as Shiro laughed.

 

“ _That’s_ my Lance,” he replied, shaking his head slightly in amusement. Lance had to bite his lip to stop himself from squealing. _My Lance._ But since Shiro didn’t seem to mind him talking, Lance slipped right back into it with eagerness. He just talked about whatever came to mind as Shiro listened intently with the occasional comment, allowing him to ramble to his heart’s content until they finally reached the treeline. Then, Lance fell silent again, his jaw dropping.

 

‘Great view’ qualified for understatement of the year. The hill fell away into a sea of the same softly glowing flowers from the woods, stretching as far as he could see to the base of the mountains in the distance and dotted with more small woodlands. The fact that this had somehow survived the Galra occupation was almost unbelievable - but when he looked closer, he could make out signs of their presence. A crooked signal tower here, a crashed ship there, patches of ground where the flowers seemed unable to take hold. It was all barely noticeable at a glance, though, even beneath the light of the three moons.

 

Despite being relatively close to a city and the Castle of Lions, the light pollution was minimal out here on the other side of the woods. Thousands upon thousands of stars were visible, dusted across every inch of the blackness above. Some distant galaxies and nebulae were even close enough to see, their swirling forms of light and dust nestled amongst the other stars. Up on the summit of this hill with the trees behind them, the view was totally unobstructed.

 

“Woah…” Lance said quietly, staring up at the vastness above him.

 

“Yeah. Woah,” Shiro agreed as he let the rucksack slip off his shoulder and lowered it to the ground without taking his eyes off the stars.

 

“This is what I signed up to the garrison for,” Lance mused as he sat on the lush grass, bracing himself upright with his hands behind him as he leaned back slightly. It was chilly out here with nothing to break up the breeze.

 

“Me too. I don’t think I could have ever imagined seeing something like this, though. Even getting as far as Kerberos felt incredible at the time…” he trailed off, a sudden pained look in his face that he was clearly trying to hide as he reached into the rucksack and pulled out two bottles of… something, flicking the caps off with an easy twitch of his robotic thumb and handing one to Lance.

 

“Trying to get me drunk, Shirogane? That’s a terrible example to set for a young cadet,” Lance smirked, sniffing the contents. It had a similarly sweet smell to the forest they had just left. Shiro rolled his eyes and shouldered him playfully.

 

“It’s non-alcoholic, _cadet,_ ” he responded, tipping his own bottle back for an experimental sip. He made a small ‘Mmm’ sound in approval as he rested back on his elbows. “Not bad.”

 

“Did you ever think we’d get this far?” Lance asked, gesturing at, well, everything. Shiro shook his head as he looked skyward again.

 

“The other side of the universe? Not in my lifetime. Wasn’t even sure we’d make contact with aliens while I was still around,” he answered, and a hint of sourness crept into his voice. Lance heard his prosthetic whir. “That changed pretty quick.”

 

“Yeah, and then the garrison tried to cover it up,” Lance snorted, hearing bitterness in his own tone. He had become disillusioned with the garrison the moment they had seen the video feed of Shiro strapped to the table. “‘Pilot Error’, my ass, I never believed that. And when you got back, what did they do? Did they listen to you? Nope! They strapped you to a table knocked you the fuck out!”

 

“Needless to say, I don’t think of the garrison the same way I used to.” Shiro huffed an unamused laugh as he took another mouthful of the drink. Lance made a noise of agreement and the conversation lapsed. He watched Shiro silently for a while. As the older man gazed up at the starscape, the bitterness in his eyes faded and was replaced with a childlike wonder, and a smile pulled gently on his lips. The starlight danced in his eyes and played across his softened features, illuminating the shock of white hair and highlighting the ridges of the scar on his nose. He looked breathtaking. There was no other word for it.

 

“After everything that happened to you out here, you still look up there like it’s the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen,” Lance said, frowning.  

 

“Because it is. Every little mote of dust, every little atom in those nebulae has the potential to form something new. All these stars could host billions of forms of life that we couldn’t dream up if we tried. I look up there and I see endless possibilities, endless _discovery._ Being out here is everything I ever dreamed of. We’re looking at stars and galaxies right now that people back on Earth can’t even see with the most powerful technology available to them.”

 

“Wow. I didn’t even think about it like that,” Lance mused.

 

“What I went through… it might have changed me for the worse, but it won’t change how I see this. Nothing ever could.”

 

“Hey, man, nothing’s changed you for the worse,” Lance pouted at him.

 

“Lance, if you knew what I’ve remembered…”

 

“You would still be my hero, and nothing’s ever gonna change _that,”_ he interrupted, sitting upright to glare down at Shiro indignantly. He mentally added a ‘ _So there’,_ deciding not to vocalise it _._ Shiro looked uncertain, but smiled anyway as he bowed his head and pushed himself upright. He seemed to be blushing, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight.

 

“You really think of me as a hero?”

 

“Even more now than I did when I was a cadet, since, y’know, you’ve _literally_ saved my ass on multiple occasions. And I’m pretty sure a few of my notes said so.” Lance replied, feeling embarrassed the moment he said it. It was the first time the notes had been brought up.

 

“Three of them,” Shiro replied, to Lance’s astonishment.

 

“You counted them?” he asked, surprised.

 

“I _kept_ them,” Shiro answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. In Lance’s stunned silence, Shiro reached into his pocket and pulled out the small book that he had been reading in the kitchen that morning and handed it to Lance. Each page had one of his notes stuck to it, and they were all in order from the very first to the most recent. He looked back up at Shiro who was _definitely_ blushing now, absently scratching at his neck. “I, uh. Read through it every morning.”

 

“How long did you know they were from me?” Lance asked sheepishly.

 

“From the second one,” he replied, slipping the book back into his pocket. “That’s when you started arriving to training before I did. You’re not good with subtlety,” he grinned as Lance groaned and rested his head on his knees.

 

“I was _trying_ ,” Lance whined, glancing up at him from the crook of his arm.

 

“I’ve never seen you try to be subtle about this kind of thing before,” Shiro snorted in amusement. “You just flirt with everything that moves.”

 

“This was -- different,” Lance blushed, plucking at the grass around him. “I didn’t _mean_ it to be flirty at first. I just wanted to cheer you up ‘cause you were having a tough time but it started getting away from me with the second note, I guess. Couldn’t help it. You’re just so…” he waved helplessly at Shiro’s general everything.

 

“So what?” he laughed, eyes shining.

 

“So… _you,_ ” Lance finished helplessly. “You’re kind and hot and brave and smart and I’ve had a crush on you since the ga- I dunno, I figured the notes were a good way to get it all out of my system and make you feel better at the same time, I never thought you’d find out it was _me_ and I sure as hell didn’t think that someone as awesome as you would like me back. Shit like that just doesn’t happen to me, man.”

 

“Lance.”

 

“And when you left me the flowers earlier I thought it was totally just a friend thing, and I’m still not entirely sure I believe you’re not doing this just to humour me, and _yeah_ I usually flirt with every hot person I see but you’re _different_ because you’re _Takashi Shirogane_ and i had a freakin’ garrison recruitment poster on my wall with you on it and you were the coolest guy there and everyone looked up to you and damn you could have anyone in the universe, man, and I know I act like I’m hot shit but-”

 

“Lance.”

 

“-the reality of it is that you’re the _hottest_ shit, y’know? So why would you like _me_ , because compared to you I’m _average_ , I mean _look at you_ , you’re like a _superhero_ , you’re _my_ superhero and we’re sitting on a hill stargazing and you gave me flowers and you called this a date and honestly I still feel like maybe you’re just doing this to keep me happy because you’re nice like tha-”

 

“ _Lance,”_ Shiro said firmly, place a hand on his shoulder. Lance snapped his mouth shut. He’d moved even closer at some point during Lance’s rambling. “We’ve talked about this already. I’m not doing this to keep you happy. I thought you were only here to make _me_ happy. You’re funny and smart and caring, and _damn_ you’re beautiful, and I’m not even going to tell you how long I’ve wanted to say that, because frankly, it’s embarrassing,” he chuckled, biting his lip. After a short pause to consider his words, he continued. “When I look in the mirror, I don’t see what you see. I see a man with pieces missing, and he’s scarred and ugly and and broken and he’s not even fully human anymore, and he’s done… terrible things. But knowing that someone like you can see past it all the way you do is so, so special to me. _You_ are special to me, and you have been for so long. Never, ever doubt it.”

 

Lance didn’t know what to say to that, so he shot forward and wrapped his arms tightly Shiro’s waist, burying his face into his hoodie. Shiro hugged him back, one hand on the back of his head to hold him close as he shifted to a slightly more comfortable position for them both and nuzzled his nose into Lance’s hair. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them moving. Another cold breeze drifted past, but he didn’t mind; Shiro’s body heat was keeping him warm. He was stargazing and snuggling with Shiro on an alien planet, being told he was _special_ and _beautiful_. This was, without a doubt, the best day of his life. Either that, or…

 

“I’m not dead, am I?” Lance asked. Shiro pulled back a little to look at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Did someone shoot me yesterday? Am I in some sort of ‘everything you ever wanted’ afterlife? Am I in a _coma_ and this is a weird hyper-realistic dream I’m having?”

 

“No. No, definitely not in another coma,” Shiro chuckled, brushing his thumb against Lance’s cheek. His eyes sparkled with amusement and adoration. “And thankfully, you are very much alive.”

 

“Okay. Cool. That’s cool. Can I kiss you?” The words slipped out somewhat unintentionally, and Lance regretted it instantly. Shiro’s brow creased slightly, and the few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. “Sorry, that kinda just- it slipped out, i didn’t…”

 

“I’d rather take things a little bit… slower,” Shiro said apologetically, looking like he hated every word coming from his mouth. “But…” he hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his fingers curling around the back of Lance’s neck as he kissed him. Lance returned the gesture, controlling his over-eagerness and enjoying the slow attentiveness from Shiro, the taste of their earlier drinks on Shiro’s tongue, the gentle pull of Shiro’s teeth on his bottom lip. Lance sighed happily as they pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

 

“Will that do for now?” Shiro asked quietly, a smile on his lips.

 

“We didn’t have to do that, Shiro,” Lance responded. The last thing he had wanted was to make Shiro feel like he _had_ to do something. Shiro shook his head ever so slightly, so as not to disturb their position.

 

“No, we didn’t. But I wanted to. We’ll just... leave it there for now, though. If that’s okay.”

 

“More than okay. Stargazing and cuddling it is!” Lance replied, shifting his weight to tip them both back onto the grass. Shiro yelped as they fell back, not expecting the move, and they both burst into a fit of giggles at the sound. Lance snuggled up to his side with his head on Shiro’s chest and his arm slung over his waist, listening to the dull thud of Shiro’s heartbeat as Shiro wrapped his arm around Lance, holding him close with a content sigh.

 

“Thank you, Lance.”

 

“We go at your pace, Shiro. No faster, no slower. Whatever you want. You deserve to have some control over something like this. Or me. I mean, whatever you’re into, man,” he added, grinning as Shiro laughed again.

 

“My hero,” Shiro said softly, and something made Lance feel like he genuinely meant it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this sitting unfinished in a gdoc for MONTHS, and since it's shance week, i thought i should get off my ass and tidy it up for posting!! it was inspired by a conversation with my best bud on twitter. everything from the notes to shiro leaving the bouquet were all from her. so thank chrissi for this puppy love fluff-fest. 
> 
> the fic title is from 'youth' by troye sivan. i listened to [this remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_kkbqxq26Y) a lot while writing this. the working title was a line from counting stars by one republic, but that's probably overused as hell :')


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